From: RuneQuest-Request@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (RQ Digest Maintainer) To: RuneQuest@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (Daily automated RQ-Digest) Subject: RuneQuest Daily, Fri, 17 Sep 1993, part 2 Reply-To: RuneQuest@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (RuneQuest Daily) Sender: RuneQuest-Request@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM Precedence: junk The RuneQuest Daily and RuneQuest Digest deal with the subjects of Avalon Hill's RPG and Greg Stafford's world of Glorantha. Send submissions and followup to "RuneQuest@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM", they will automatically be included in a next issue. Try to change the Subject: line from the default Re: RuneQuest Daily... on replying. Selected articles may also appear in a regular Digest. If you want to submit articles to the Digest only, contact the editor at RuneQuest-Digest-Editor@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM. Send enquiries and Subscription Requests to the editor: RuneQuest-Request@Glorantha.Holland.Sun.COM (Henk Langeveld) --------------------- From: MILLERL@wharton.upenn.edu (Loren J. Miller) Subject: avatars of gods Message-ID: <01H30RQPA55U8Y5ZE4@wharton.upenn.edu> Date: 16 Sep 93 11:16:08 GMT X-RQ-ID: 1718 steve@psycho.demon.co.uk (Steve Thomas) writes, in response to Clay and the Issaries question: > I don't believe that changes just change themselves > (at least, not since the great compromise). Up to here I agree with you. The only changes that occur are at the hands of HeroQuestors, and worshippers, which are the same thing... > >Certainly avatars of the god existed at the fringe of the GL influence... > > What is a god's "avatar" in a Gloranthan sense ? Some kind of super > cult spirit watching over the cult? If they're spirits they're probably too > weak, if gods, then their hands are tied by the Compromise. Anyway > I think that 'certainly' is deeply overstating the case. I wanted to find out if the god that was worshipped under a name in one place necessarily had to be identical to the god that was worshipped under the same name elsewhere, and how identical it might be, so I asked Greg if an Ulerian priestess from Nochet were to travel to, for instance, Vormain and visit one of the Ulerian temples there, the ones that have a profoundly different vision of the granting of pleasure that is reminiscent of the Hellraiser movies, and if she were somehow able to survive the personality conflicts inspired by the different views of the cult,so if this Ulerian were to visit the holy of holies in the Vormaini Uleria temple and pray would she be able to get a divine spell back from Uleria? Greg said yes, she would. The two temples would tell radically different versions of Uleria's myths and the two goddesses would appear almost completely dissimilar, yet they both connect to the same divine source. Using this theory the easiest way to define an avatar is as a mask of a god, which has access to the true form of the god, but which is not the true form of the god. Usually, this means that the version of the god that we worship is obviously the true god, while the twisted versions that the folks over the hill worship is merely an avatar. They can't be the same, after all, because they don't have quite the same myths. And they can't be all that different because our temples work just like theirs, and when we are forced to visit them for the tribal moot our priests can use their altars for proper worship services. So it's obvious that they worship the true god, but through a mask that distorts appearances slightly and makes the true god more palatable to their perverse minds. Thus an avatar is like a mask. Now if the preceeding definition of avatar is acceptable to you then try chewing on this. Every worship service is a heroquest, and such worship slowly changes the mythic landscape for a particular locale or bloodline. Thus traditions develop and diverge, so that people worship differently in different places. Another way to say the same thing: In some places cultists worship an avatar and other places have chosen different avatars, and so contradictions in myths are everywhere. In fact, if a myth is extremely consistent across a huge range of lands and cultures then it's almost sure proof of powerful, and RECENT, GodLearner style meddling, or at best a well-organized mythic maintenance squad within the cult, which is still pretty darn scary. whoah, +++++++++++++++++++++++23 Loren Miller internet: MILLERL@wharton.upenn.edu "Enough sound bites. Let's get to work." -- Ross Perot sound bite --------------------- From: clay@cool.vortech.com (Clay Luther) Subject: Mannimark and the Kingdom of Lead, Pt. 1 Message-ID: <199309162024.AA08418@cool.vortech.com> Date: 16 Sep 93 10:24:53 GMT X-RQ-ID: 1719 Mannimark and the Kingdom of Lead, Part 1 Copyright (c) 1993 by Clay Luther He coughed once, thick, wet, and gravelly, then smiled a bit. When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, its ancientness pouring out over me like warm milk. "When Mannimark escaped from the house of the rock giant, Caellae, he fled down the slopes of the mountains. Those mountains", pointing out my small window, "there, on the other side. Still very, very far away from here. He fled down the slopes of the mountains in the darkness, still naked and half-tied as Caellae had left him before going out. 'How lucky am I!' he thought to himself, Had I not hid Pun (you remember his mouse, don't you?) with such care, the giant would have certainly eaten me by morning. As it stands my good and tiny friend has gnawed my ropes and set me free.' "Mannimark ran, falling and scraping down the rocky, icy slopes of the mountains. It was cold, as cold as he had ever felt it before, and he thought to himself 'Subere has surely conspired with toothy Winter to make my way as difficult as possible tonight.' He was wrong, of course. Subere felt great affection for Mannimark and never worked against him. You recall I told you once how she helped him steal the golden needles from the Onwinsi, the Marsh Witch. He was wrong, but it was a very dark night, and very cold, and Mannimark, without light or clothes, having barely escaped from the giant's pot, now ran for his life. "He had no way of knowing which way he was going, except down the mountain, or where he wanted to go. The stars and moon, obscured by clouds, provided him no guides. He continued down down down, until the land levelled somewhat. As morning came, he found himself finally off the mountains, but in a very dreary place indeed. 'My!' he thought looking around in the dim light, 'Would I have thought a place less beautiful than a giant's house before coming here today? I think not!' You see, the land about him was as grey and rocky and dim as any land he had ever seen, more so I say, a dirty, dusty, rocky land without tree or bush or grass. What grew, between the rocks and stones and hard, frozen mud were weeds, brown weeds, as tall as you are, some of them with wicked, purple, spiky tops. 'What a dreary place I have found myself' he thought, 'but still, I must find some shelter for I don't like the look of those clouds. It will snow for sure, I think.' So, Mannimark searched all that cold morning long for someplace to lie down and rest, safe from the cold and snow to come. Luckily he found a small rock house with a thatched roof. He called out, but nobody answered him. Finding the shack without owner, he gathered some weeds and whatever wood he could find. Inside he built a bed of weeds. He then asked Mahome for a tiny spark and made a fire to warm himself. Then he fell fast asleep. "Had Mannimark bothered to look at Grovril's maps before taking that foolish bet which landed him in the giant's pot, he might have known he had stumbled into no fouler and forgotten place than the Kingdom of Lead. Yes, that's what I said, I saw you shiver beneath the covers. The Kingdom of Lead, rotten king Pallomark's land, as tainted and as evil a land as I know. Oh yes, my child, I have been there, more than once I shudder to say. No one goes to the Kingdom of Lead without good cause, though there is one cause good enough for some. Lead, you see, even the smallest amount and when properly enchanted, protects against all kinds of witchery. Rotten king Pallomark loved lead. He wore a lead crown and a lead coat. His people knew how to make lead into things no one else could. Not any old lead, but their special enchanted lead, enchanted by the rotten king himself, enchanted so to protect the wearer from all forms of sorcery, as I said. Only Pallomark knew how to do this and he made his people dig day and night in the great lead mines beneath his great lead city at the center of the his great lead kingdom. He built humongous furnaces where he would melt down the leadstones to purify them, all day long, all year long. These furnaces belched unending black clouds into the air and the soot settled over his land and choked every living thing. To fuel his furnaces, he sent his people to chop down all the forests in the kingdom. When all the trees were gone, he tore down his peoples' houses, and burned them. And when all the houses were gone, he dried the bones of the dead before the furnaces, then threw them in like kindling. Eventually, you would think, the rotten king would run out of things to burn. He burned every calf, lamb, puppy, and kitten he could find, every bird and spider. But Pallomark was crafty and he knew the secret to enchant lead. So he traded. He traded his enchanted lead which protected against all forms of sorcery for the things he needed for his people and his furnaces. He traded for food, wood, whale oil, and coal. "Now, the kings of other lands greatly valued Pallomark's lead and were very eager to trade with him. But they feared the Kingdom of Lead. It was a poisonous land, twisted and filthy. The people of the kingdom had grown accustomed to to the filth, though they are ugly now for it. Without exception, the people of the Kingdom of Lead are stooped parodies of real men, with fat, greasy, grey skin and coal black eyes. They grow no hair, and you cannot tell the men from the women. Both sexes bulge and roll unseemly. They have massive foreheads which jut forward and shadow their tiny eyes and their noses are mashed flat against their faces. Their nostrils open only slightly when they breath, producing a fuzzy hissing noise. They never breath through their mouths and it is said if one of them catches cold he will die of suffocation before doing so. They all wear soot black robes of woven lead. And they are very strong, stronger than our strongest men, but typically slower and certainly more stupid than our warriors. Those not born to the Kingdom, but later move there, will certainly die. I only briefly stayed in the Kingdom of Lead, and each time was followed by long periods of painful sickness when I returned home. "So you see, my child, Mannimark had leapt out of the giant's pot into a land of death, though he did not know it yet. He still slept soundly, thinking himself lucky and safe, in the tiny rock house at the foot of the mountains. It so happened, though, that Pallomark had sent a sentry of men that morning to hunt for any deer or rabbit that might have stumbled down out of the mountains during the night. The sentries knew of the tiny rock house and thought to stop there to rest and eat their lunches of leadbread, cold porridge, and grey water. There were three of them, all fat and black-skinned, with jerkins of leadleather and stone handled maces with lead balls. Their names were Ogul, Harat, and Mool, they were the sons of Pallomark's brother, and Pallomark trusted them more than any of his other knights. Ogul carried with him a net made of the webs of spiders fed only a mixture of blood and lead. Harat had a sling of leadthread and ten lead bullets the size of apples. And Mool brought with him a long spear, made of stone and tipped with a lead point as sharp and hard as the finest iron. The rotten king had given his favorite knights these weapons to honor them and everyone in the kingdom knew Ogul, Harat, and Mool by sight because of their weapons. "It had already begun to snow, just as Mannimark predicted, by the time Ogul, Harat, and Mool arrived at the rock house. Mool saw the thin smoke rising from the house's chimney and stopped his brothers. 'Look! Someone is inside. Be quiet so that we can perhaps sneak in and catch them unawares.' Then, more silently than three fat men wearing lead should be, they crept up to the house and inside. Silently, they surrounded Mannimark. Mool smiled to his brothers, then poked Mannimark with his spear. 'Hey you! Wake up!' he hissed through flapping lips. Mannimark came awake rather quickly, jumping back from Mool and groping for his weapons. He had none. 'Look what I have found, brothers!' laughed Mool, 'Sleeping here in our house a man with no clothes in the dead of winter. What are you doing, Naked Man, in our house?' Mannimark replied, pulling up the bed of weeds to cover himself, 'I apologize. I was cold, having just come down out of the mountain, naked as you see, and I needed shelter, for I see it snows outside now as I thought it would. The house was empty, and I thought to use it since it was free.' Ogul, who had an awful temper, knocked Mannimark down with his mace and stood over him, yelling 'You expect us to swallow that story? How can a naked man cross the mountains?' Mannimark wiped blood from his mouth and replied, 'I did not start my crossing without clothes or weapons, but lost them along the way to a giant who lives up there. Surely, though, if I had them my clothes and weapons now I would repay you the favor for this bruise you have given me.' Ogul lifted his mace again to strike Mannimark, but Harat, the slyest of the three, pulled his brothers aside and said 'At first I thought perhaps he was a madman, but he appears healthy and strong. Fine hair grows on his head, chest and under his arms, so we know he is not from our land. Treat him well, angry Ogul, and we will take him to our uncle. If he bodes ill for us, our uncle will know, and we will surely sup on his lily flesh.' Ogul and Mool nodded in agreement and turned back to Mannimark, who had gotten up on his knees. Mool stepped forward and said, 'I apologize for my brother who struck you before asking your name. I am Mool, this is my brother Harak, and you have met ill-mannered brother Ogul already. We are hunting for our uncle, the king of this land, and IJthink he would gladly receive a brave and tender young man like yourself. You may wear my jerkin and walk between my brothers and me to keep warm while we return home.' Mannimark, greatful for the hospitality, accepted MoolUs jerkin and walked between the three ugly brothers back to Pallomark's castle. -- Clay Luther clay@cool.vortech.com Software Engineer Kodak Health Imaging Systems Yelo's gift was a necklace of clam shells from the Ouel Stream strung on gut string with a delicate knot of reeds which performed the role of pendant. --------------------- From: Tom.Zunder@mettav.royle.org (Tom Zunder) Subject: Re: RuneQuest Daily, Wed, 15 Sep 1993, part 2 Message-ID: Date: 16 Sep 93 19:15:00 GMT X-RQ-ID: 1720 Tradetalk --------- But has Glorantha only got one? Tradetalk is certainly the Manirian one, but the Western lands probably have another Malkioni one. Pamaltela will have different lingua francas as will the Far East where the Eastern Isles may well have none, reflecting it's shattered nature, or a strong one for the same reason. Let's not assume that Maniria = Glorantha Of course Glorantha is of course much much smaller than Earth. Bantu is in fact a language family, "spoken from Kenya to Cameroun and south to Namibia and South Africa". Bantu means 'people'. { Kings, Gods and Spirits from African Mythology, Jan Knappert, 1986 } What South Africans meant by Bantu may have been different. Orlanth Rex! tzunder@mettav.royle.org --------------------- From: jjm@zycor.lgc.com (johnjmedway) Subject: boats darting through the canals to hell Message-ID: <9309170448.AA26487@hp0.zycor.lgc.com> Date: 17 Sep 93 04:48:18 GMT X-RQ-ID: 1721 sorry for the fixation with the moon and things lunar lately, but my game is currently in the heartlands, and a bit of sage advice can arrive in the "nick" of time, and save me from mistakes. i'll join in the prax debate when the group finishes the migration ( if! ). moon boats: moon boats were discussed a while back, but i don't remember numbers being discussed. how common are these things? are they reserved for official business, or may noble or otherwise high-ranking individuals have access to them. do they actually have sail-like structures, or maybe an intangible illusion of a sail where the sail would be. dart wars: david gadbois and i were talking about this the other day. the tradition has included arena-style combats before, but is that still the case? are these wars to be semi-formally declared before they are started ( our impression ), or is the first "surfeit" of seafood a acceptable declaration of war? wars starting too suddenly would seem to threaten the stability of the empire ( i.e. the prompt delivery of $ to glamour ). regarding the moon's "craters" being spiderweb-like lines: so these are like the "canals" believed to have been on mars? are these folds in her cloak as she gathered it around her? wrinkles of age as her empire grew and settled? lines of worry? in any case, i guess it's better than true craters, which i would suppose would intimate divine-level acne. trips to hell: here we went through 65 days with out rain of any form, and a stretch of 12 days above 100 degrees. yep, we've been in hell lately, though what this hell has to do with anything other than the crunchy grass quest, i've yet to see. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- | john_medway@zycor.lgc.com | Landmark Graphics Corp | 512.292.2325 | ---------------------------------------------------------------------------